


A Moment of Truth

by Antarctic_Echoes



Series: The Devil Loves to Knit [13]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Identity Reveal, Protective Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Self-destructive Lucifer, crack fic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 17:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10971681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antarctic_Echoes/pseuds/Antarctic_Echoes
Summary: After Chloe tries to help Lucifer with his “problem,” he reveals his true self to her.Sequel to “Love Dares the Devil”





	A Moment of Truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonatoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonatoms/gifts).



> A super-huge thank you to my wonderful, awesome friend, moonatoms -- I hope this is everything you were hoping it would be. <3
> 
> And thank you so very much to everyone who’s been so enthusiastic about this fluffy series -- you are all awesome! No animals in this one and it gets a bit angsty, but it has to, considering the storyline. I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Wanted to get this out, so it’s a little rough around the edges and has not been beta-ed -- sorry about that! I apologize for all mistakes.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker, and Dan Espinoza are owned by Vertigo Comics, DC Comics, Neil Gaiman, Mike Carey, and everyone else involved with the Lucifer TV show and comic books. I own nothing and make no money on this. I merely am borrowing the characters for... uh... writing practice.

 

 

Chloe Decker couldn’t believe that her partner, Lucifer Morningstar, was impotent.

After all, he was always surrounded by women and men, none of whom ever seemed disappointed or unsatisfied.  She would have never guessed by the way he always made sexual comments to her that he couldn’t perform, and yet there it was.  He had all but admitted that he had a problem with satisfying his partners.

Staring up at the ceiling in her bedroom as she lay in bed, Chloe pondered the enigma that was her partner.  She knew for a fact that early in their relationship he had had no issues with his manhood -- after all, she had teased him mercilessly after the Frank B’arnes incident, when they’d somehow gotten tied up in thick chunky yarn overnight, and he’d been virile then....  So why wasn’t he now?

A horrible thought crossed her mind.  Was it her?  Was she the reason why he was having sexual issues?

No... it couldn’t be....   Could it?  She had noticed that he hadn’t been hanging out with his usual throng of groupies lately, choosing instead to knit with her.  He had started consulting those romance novels when they started dating, as well.  When he was with her, he was sweet and thoughtful, and hadn’t really made any blatant sexual overtures toward her for some time.  He joked about it, but he never... well, he never was grabby.  If anything, he was terribly shy around her, which she really liked.  There was just something so refreshing about seeing him as a normal human being, instead of some studly god that had to have sex with anything that moved.

But then that meant....

Her face paled as she realized that she _was_ the reason her partner was impotent.  “Oh god, it _is_ me....”

Horror and shame flooded her insides, squeezing the breath out of her as her head spun.  How could she have done this to Lucifer?  Lucifer, the most sex-crazed man on the planet?  What was it about her that completely destroyed his sex drive?

Well, if she had caused the problem, then she’d have to solve it.  She’d fix Lucifer’s performance problem and get him working again.  Nodding to herself, she knew it was the right thing to do.

Only... _how_ did she fix his broken part?  She didn’t even know.  The thought of buying him some viagra crossed her mind, but one needed a prescription for that, and she had no idea what kind of over-the-counter drugs could be a substitute.  Where could she get some advice?  Maybe... from Dan?  No.  She immediately dismissed that idea.  Her ex never had performance problems -- no, he had just let work get in the way -- and besides, he would laugh so hard at Lucifer that the two men would probably come to blows.  There was no way she was going to humiliate her partner that way.

So... what to do?

As she lay there, an idea came to her mind.  She’d help him with his problem by trying to stoke his desire.  Maybe with enough sexual teasing on her part, his sex drive would return.  Since she wasn’t one of his sexy strippers, she had no illusions that it would take a long time, but eventually he’d feel something, wouldn’t he?

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Lucifer walked into the precinct with a little spring in his step.

After the horrible misunderstanding with the detective -- when he had tried to tell her who he was -- he realized that he had been given a reprieve.  Perhaps now was not the time to tell her he was the Devil.  Instead he’d strengthen their connection to each other, make her see that he was just a normal... well, a normal....  He frowned.  He wasn’t normal, so that wasn’t going to work, but at least if they grew closer together, she wouldn’t go insane...?  Hopefully?

As he walked to the bullpen, he was surprised to see that she wasn’t at her desk.  Mayhap they had received a new assignment?  Butterflies took wing inside his stomach as he thought of investigating a murder alongside Chloe.  He loved watching her work, seeing her analytical mind dissecting the clues, watching her chase down the bad guys and knee them in the groin before handcuffing them....

Arousal shot through him at the thought of his partner doing her job.  Well, any thought of her excited him, but she was just so sexy when she was working!  Her sharp mind, her no-nonsense attitude, just the fact that she was such an amazing detective... it was enough to make him double over from passion.  Especially when she closed a case -- that was when he wanted to kiss her senseless to celebrate.  But... he really couldn’t do that, could he?  She’d slap his face.  Oooh, which would be splendid, for he loved her fire!  The thought had him grinning.

Sitting down at his usual spot across from her work desk, he picked up a ballpoint pen from a cup filled with writing utensils, and started clicking it over and over.  Immediately bored with that, he started doodling on her calendar, drawing hearts all over it, before realizing they made him look like a sappy, lovesick fool.  Frowning, he changed the hearts into little Devil faces.  Yes, that was better.

So engrossed was he in his little art project that he didn’t notice Chloe walking up until she was standing right next to him.  Realizing that she had arrived, he scrambled to put her desk back to rights.  Smiling, he greeted her as he turned toward her.

“Hello, Detect....ive....”  His voice petered out to nothing as he gazed at her.

Dressed in a drop-dead gorgeous outfit, Chloe shone like a radiant goddess.  It was casual enough for the workplace, but still stunning.  Her white blouse had a deep vee that revealed just enough cleavage to be arousing, and her black slacks were of a shimmery material that caught the light and gave it a soft, satiny look.  Of course she had on her smart boots, but instead of her usual camel overcoat, she wore a short, burgundy bolero jacket.  Her face was expertly made up, giving her the appearance of a magazine model, and her beautiful blonde hair hung down like burnished gold strands around her shoulders.

Lucifer’s mouth went dry as all thoughts flew out of his head like a flock of frightened birds.  He couldn’t think. All he could do was stare helplessly at the vision before him, like an idiot.  Goodness, was he drooling?  He hoped not.

“Gaaaahhhh....” was all he could say.

“Hey, Lucifer.”  Chloe smiled at him as she touched his shoulder gently.  Sparks shot through him at her touch, igniting his insides with passion.  The urge to lay her down on her desk and have sex with her right then and there was so great that he clutched the armrests of his chair until they cracked under his grip.

She didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.  At his lack of a response, her face grew worried.  “Are you okay?”

Lucifer shook himself inwardly.  Bloody hell, he had to get control of himself!  “Ah... yes.  Right.  Fine.  Yes.  I am... well.”  Well, as well as could be expected, considering he couldn’t stand up right now without embarrassing both her and himself with his body’s reaction.  Crossing his legs, he tried his best to look nonchalant.

His response didn’t seem to be the one she wanted, for her face fell, only to be replaced by a gentle smile as she sat at her desk.  “I’m glad you could come and help me today.  I’m buried under paperwork.”

“Right.”  Lucifer struggled to keep his voice normal.  “It would be my --”  His voice cracked.  Heat filled his cheeks as he cleared his throat and said, “My pleasure.”

He couldn’t stop devouring her with his eyes.  Why couldn’t he stop looking at her?  Goodness, just the sight of her smile inflamed him to fever pitch.  He had to get out of there.  If he stayed, he was going to end up jumping on her like a wild animal, and she deserved so much better than that.  She deserved only the best -- romance; beauty; courtly, chivalrous love; sweet, shy kisses... and hot, passionate sex with his naked splendor right there in the middle of the bullpen because he couldn’t care less who saw them, for he wanted her now, needed her _now --_

Bloody hell, what was wrong with him?!

“Lucifer, I need to get a case file from the records room.  Come with me?” she asked.

The fallen angel blinked at her.  Had... had she just winked at him?

No, surely not.  Not his straightlaced detective!  She probably had something in her eye.  As she stood up, he rose to his feet, as if in a trance.  Trying hard to control his baser instincts, Lucifer walked ahead of her.

Suddenly, without warning, he felt a stinging slap on his rear.  Thinking that perhaps a passing officer was being frisky, he whirled around, only to see Chloe smiling at him.  Confused, befuddled, completely bamboozled, he just stared at her as his brows furrowed.

“Det...  Detective?”

As he rubbed his poor, abused rump, she giggled -- giggled!  Something was definitely wrong with his wonderful, no-nonsense partner.  Perhaps her exposure to the mind-controlling sea otter at the Malibu house had affected her brain permanently...?

“Are you unwell?” he asked as he squinted at her.

“I’m fine!”  She cocked her head at him.  “How do you feel?”

How _did_ he feel?  Hot, bothered, filled with burning, raging passion, but that was nothing compared to the concern he felt at his partner’s odd behavior.

“I am worried about you.  You seem... different today.”  Was it his imagination, or did she look disappointed?

But then she smiled brilliantly at him.  He nearly fell to his knees at her beauty.  She was magnificent, gorgeous, so... perfect!

Realizing his mouth was hanging open and that if he didn’t get moving he’d start drooling again, he walked into the records room.  She followed close behind -- almost too close, for he could feel her body heat.  Oh, she felt so good!  If she had been anyone else, he would have thrown caution to the wind and just had sex with her right there, but this was Chloe... his partner.  She deserved only the best.  He wanted everything to be perfect for her -- roses everywhere, soft, satin sheets, wine, and of course, whipped cream....

Squeezing his eyes shut as he struggled with his wants and desires, he plastered a smile on his face as he closed the door and turned toward her.  “Which file did you --mmmph!”

Chloe’s lips were suddenly pressed against his as he found his arms full of her.  Caught off-guard, Lucifer couldn’t move, couldn’t think.  His partner -- his beautiful Chloe -- was kissing him!  In the records room!  And oh, her body was so supple under his hands, and her lips were so soft...!

He should have turned her away.  She deserved so much more than a quick tryst in a dusty room, surrounded by file cabinets and boxes full of evidence....  And yet... and yet....

Throwing caution to the wind, he deepened the kiss, pouring all of the love he felt for her into it.  The taste of her was so sweet!  Pulling her close, he tangled his hands in her gorgeous hair and reveled in the silky feel of it.  Goodness, he had never felt such overwhelming desire for someone, had never felt like this with anyone.  No, only with Chloe....  Lovely, perfect, wonderful Chloe.  He needed her so badly....

Whirling her around, he pinned her to the door with his body as his mouth continued to ravish hers.  He heard her moan softly as her arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him impossibly closer.  His shaking hands pulled her blouse from the waistband of her slacks, then slipped underneath the silky material to caress her midriff.  She was so soft, so warm, so... Chloe.  His body burned as he ground his hips against hers.  She felt so good... so good...!

Without any warning, Chloe turned her head away and gasped for air.  His lips tried to follow hers, for he couldn’t bear to be away from her delectable mouth, but she managed to avoid him.  Dazed with passion, Lucifer couldn’t understand her sudden reticence.  Panting hard, he took in her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, and her eyes so dark with desire....  She looked like she wanted him, so why had she stopped?

She glanced down between them as her face grew even more rosy.  “You... you’re...  you....”

He didn’t understand what she was trying to say.  All he wanted was to kiss her lips again.  Leaning forward, he tried to, but she put her hand on his chest and pushed slightly.  Immediately complying with her nonverbal request, he pulled back and put some space between them.

“You’re not... impotent.”

He blinked as he struggled to push away the haze of sexual desire.  “I beg your pardon?”

Chloe’s eyes fell to the base of his trousers where his very happy wedding tackle was, before looking into his eyes.  Her face grew beet red, all the way to her hairline.

“I thought you said you were impotent.”  Her voice shook.

“What?”  Bloody hell, why couldn’t he gather his thoughts into a coherent sentence?  Concentrating on her words and not on her moving lips -- although those were so lovely and distracting -- he tried to follow the conversation  “Ah.  Right.  I never said that I was, Detective.  If you remember correctly, I went out of my way to convince you otherwise.”

“Oh, god, you mean that I --”  She turned away, pressing her hands to her cheeks.  “What have I done?  Oh god, oh god, oh god--”

‘Why do you keep calling Dad?  I assure you, he has nothing to do with my sexual stamina.”  Smiling proudly, he gestured to his wedding tackle.  “This is me, Detective!   _All_ me.  And now that we have that cleared up, perhaps we can get back to where we left off...?”  He grinned his most seductive smile at her.

She didn’t succumb to his charms.  In fact, she looked even more horrified.

Passion drained out of Lucifer as he realized his partner was truly distressed.  Worried, he asked, “What’s wrong, Detective?  Are you all right?”  He took a step toward her, but when she backed away, he stopped.  “Detective?”

“I just... I thought... I didn’t think....  If I had known, I would have never....  Oh god, this is a nightmare!”  Pushing past him, she rushed out into the hall.

“Wait -- Detective!”  He ran after her, keeping right at her heels as she strode back to her desk.  “What’s wrong?”  When she didn’t answer, he asked,  “Are you upset because we didn’t fetch the file you wanted?  Would you like me to go back for it?”

“Oh god,” she kept repeating under her breath.

Lucifer was beginning to truly worry.  His partner’s conversation resembled a scratched record, with the needle stuck on “oh god.”  “Detective --”

“Leave me alone, Lucifer.”  Instead of slowing down, she walked faster -- and not to her desk either, but toward the front doors of the precinct.  “I have to go.”

“Detective, will you please tell me what’s wrong?”  His steps faltered as she sailed through the double doors and practically ran for the parking lot.  “Detective!”

But she was already gone.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Could someone die from mortification?  Because Chloe was pretty sure _she_ could.

Thankfully it was midday, with Trixie at school and Maze on a hunt.  No one was there to see her absolute shame.  Throwing herself into the apartment, she ran upstairs and scrubbed the makeup off her face viciously.  Then she whipped off her sexy outfit and threw on the most unattractive clothes she could find -- an oversized gray sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants.  Diving into bed, she threw the covers over her head.

She couldn’t believe she had thrown herself at Lucifer like... like one of his many women!  It was appalling!  Her face burned at the thought of their passionate kiss, and the feel of his body against hers.  How could she have possibly gotten the wrong idea about his manhood?

And oh, his total confusion -- he must think her insane!  Oh god, she’d never live this down.  Never.  She’d never be able to face him, let alone look him in the eye, again.  She just wanted to sink into the ground or hide in a cave, and never, never, never emerge.  Or maybe drown herself.  That might be good too.  He must think she was some sort of sex-starved divorcee who just wanted his body!

Crying would have been a wonderful release of emotions, but she was too mortified to do so at the moment -- perhaps later, when the horror wore off and the result of her actions truly sunk in, when she realized she had completely destroyed their working and personal relationship in a single moment of insanity.  Then she would cry.  Not now.  Right now she just wished she was dead.

“Detective.”

She froze at the sound of his voice.  Of course he had let himself into the apartment -- he had that weird way with locked doors.  Staying huddled under the covers, she said, “Go away, Lucifer.”

For a long moment there was silence, then she felt the mattress give under his weight as he sat down on the bed beside her.

“Can you at least come out of there?”

Oh, his voice was so gentle, but she wasn’t fooled.  She was never, ever coming out again.   _Ever._  “No.”

“Must I talk to a giant lump of blankets?”

“Yes.”

She heard him sigh heavily.  “I don’t understand why you are upset.”

Chloe rolled her eyes under the blankets.  Of course he wouldn’t understand.  He had no shame.  “I’m mortified.  Humiliated.  Do you need any more explanation than that?”

“Well, yes, actually.”  There was puzzlement in his voice.  “Why would you be mortified?  You’ve done nothing wrong.”

That had her yanking the covers down and sitting up, so that she could glare at him.  “Are you kidding me?  I threw myself at you like some... some... floozy!”

“A floozy?”  His eyebrows rose.  “I hardly think of you as some floozy -- unless that means you’re smart, charming, sexy, brave, and a fine mother.”

At his words, fire rushed into her face and burned her cheeks.  Did he really think she was all that?  His opinion of her went to her head like fine wine, making her drunk on happiness -- which just stoked her anger at herself even more.  No matter what he thought of her, she had still been incredibly stupid to pounce on him like a tiger on some unsuspecting gazelle....

Turning away, she tried to keep her voice steady.  “I’m really sorry.  I shouldn’t have molested you in the records room.”

At his soft chuckle, her head swiveled back to look at him.  “My dear, I hardly think of a single kiss as a molestation.  Why, we didn’t even get naked!”  He cocked his head at her.  “But I still don’t understand why you are upset.  If you wanted to have sex, all you had to do was tell me.  I’m more than happy to fulfill your every desire --”

“I didn’t want to have sex with you!”  At his stunned expression, she struggled to explain.  “I mean, I _do_ want to have sex with you --”  Oh god, what was she _saying?!_  Talk about sticking her foot in her mouth!  She backpedaled and did damage control.  ” -- but not now. Eventually... well, maybe.  Anyway, it’s just that... look, I was trying to help.  I threw myself at you because I thought you needed help with your problem... which turned out to be no problem at all.”

His mouth formed an “O” as comprehension dawned, then his face softened and a tender smile touched his lips.  “You were doing it to help me.”

“Some help I was....  I feel like such a fool.”

“You shouldn’t.  It was a noble effort, fueled by compassion and a desire to help -- just what I would expect from you, Detective.”

She blushed even harder at the warmth in his voice.  “You’re making it very hard for me to stay mortified, Lucifer.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up.  “Am I?  Splendid.  I see no reason why you should be.  I rather enjoyed the interaction.”  His dark eyes suddenly smoldered with passion.  “It was a wonderful sneak peek of what is to come.”

Arousal suddenly stirred to life within her, and she struggled to push it away.  Now was not the time.  She had already done something stupid for the day -- she wasn’t about to make it worse by jumping his bones now.

Instead, she reached out and hugged him to her, thankful that he was such a wonderful man, so understanding and kind.  At first rigid in her arms, he quickly relaxed and returned the gentle embrace.  A soft kiss, as light as a butterfly, touched her hair, setting her insides aglow.  How she adored this man!

Finally pulling away, she smiled up at him.  “Thank you, Lucifer.”

A pink tint colored his cheeks as he bowed his head slightly with a small, tender smile on his face.  “My pleasure, Detective.”

She looked down at herself in her shapeless gray clothes and groaned in embarrassment.  “I look like a mess.”

“I think you look ravishing.”  There was admiration in his voice.  “You’ve never been lovelier.”

Fearing he was teasing her, she looked at him sharply, then blinked.  The sincerity in his gaze was clear for anyone to see.  He was being honest -- he really did think she was beautiful, even when she looked like a blobby mass of sweatshirt fleece, and with her face scrubbed clean of all makeup.  A blush bloomed on her cheeks as she smiled shyly at him.

“You’re sweet -- you know that, Lucifer?”

He winced.  “Please, Detective, no need to be insulting.”

Laughing at his reaction, she said, “I’m glad you’re not impotent.”

His small smile grew to a wide grin.  “As am I.”

Her brows furrowed as she thought of the conversation that had spawned such a horrible misunderstanding.  “So then... if you’re not impotent, what were you trying to tell me the other day?”

At her words, his face went completely white.  Such an extreme reaction to a simple question surprised her, and she gripped his upper arms to steady him.  He looked like he was going to pass out.  “Lucifer?  Are you okay?”

His eyes darted left and right nervously, before he hooded his gaze and turned away.  “I should make us some lunch.”

When he started to get up, she stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.  “Hey, it’s me.  We’re partners, remember?  I’m here for you, if you want to talk.”

For a long moment he sat there silently with a tick in his jaw, before he squeezed his eyes shut.  “Very well.  I wish I could just -- but nay, you deserve to know.  I had hoped for more time, but....”  He broke off and turned toward her.

Ripples of shock swept through Chloe at his expression.  His eyes were filled with such sadness, such desolation, coupled with... resignation.  All the joy and passion that had been there a few seconds ago had drained away, leaving his dark eyes empty and... dead.  A feeling of impending doom came over her, and she realized she didn’t want him to tell her -- not if it was going to upset him this badly.  She opened her mouth to tell him to forget it, she didn’t want to know, but he was already nodding.

“I’ll tell you everything... after lunch.”

 

________________________________________

 

 

Lucifer didn’t want to tell her.

Dread filled every pore of his being as he whipped up a quick quiche for their lunch.  How would she react?  The only outcome he foresaw was death.  She would shoot him, knife him, bludgeon him with a frying pan....  He wanted to cry.  After seeing how Doctor Linda had reacted to his secret, he had no illusions that Chloe would accept him.  She would hate him forever -- if she didn’t kill him first.

Throughout lunch, he struggled to be at his most charming as he tried to remember every single thing about her.  She had changed out of her workout clothes and into something she typically wore -- a white blouse with black leggings.  He thought she had never looked more breathtaking than this instant.  Her blonde hair still hung around her shoulders in charming disarray, but she had applied light touches of makeup to her face, even though she didn’t need it -- she was stunning with or without it.  She was Chloe, and she was beautiful.

For the short time they ate together, she laughed at his jokes, smiled as he teased her, and shot shy glances at him from time to time.  Lucifer wanted the lunch to last forever, to somehow stop time right here and now.  For the moment, at least, life was perfect.  He tried to draw it out, make it longer, for this memory had to last him for the rest of eternity.  All the colors around him grew more vivid with each passing second, as if his eyes knew this was the last time that he would be with Chloe, and wanted to extract every nuance from their time together.  The lovely fragrance of her shampoo, the sound of her husky laugh... he wanted -- nay, needed -- to remember it all, to stuff it into a bottle he could keep with him forever, to be opened whenever his heart needed comfort.

All too soon, lunch came to an end, and the moment of truth had arrived.

After loading the dishwasher and starting it up, he led her to the couch in the living room and sat her down.  Almost taking a seat next to her, he realized that she wouldn’t want that once he revealed himself to her, so he sat in the adjacent armchair.  A part of him wanted to hide all the knives and take away her gun, but he didn’t.  If she chose to kill him, at least it would put him out of his misery that much quicker.  He’d be back in Hell -- which would now be his own special hell without him even being in a cell -- where he’d spend the rest of his days weeping for what might have been.

She reached over to touch his knee with her fingertips.  “Lucifer, you know I’m here for you, but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Ah, Chloe... always so compassionate and kind.  Even now, when he was sure her curiosity was killing her, she still thought of his wants and desires.

“No, Detective.  You need to know.”  He took a deep breath.  “Right.  Try not to hate me.”

“I could never hate --”

He cut her off ruthlessly.  “No.  Don’t give me any hope until you know.”  Staring up at the ceiling, he tried to figure out the best way to tell her, but couldn’t find one that would result in a happy ending.  He finally decided that being blunt was the best way.  “You know that I never lie.”

“Yes....”  She gazed at him, puzzled.

Pursing his lips, he swallowed hard.  Goodness, this was more difficult than he’d ever imagined!  “I’ve been telling you all this time who I am.  It’s about time you see that I really _am_ the --”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” she groaned as she rolled her eyes.  “Don’t tell me you’re back to the ‘I’m the Devil’ stuff again, are you?”

“Detective --”

‘“Because it’s not true.”  She leaned back in her seat.  “Come on, Lucifer, that’s a bunch of baloney, and you know it.  You’re a good man.”

“No, Detective, I am not.”  Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he sighed.  “I am the Devil -- a monster.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Then it’s about time you did.”  He closed his eyes and let his human visage recede, until all that was left was a skinless horror with exposed muscles and ligaments, still weeping blood in some spots.  Her loud gasp filled the suddenly still atmosphere around him, and in that moment, Lucifer knew she’d never look at him the same again.  Instead of his human face, she’d always see his bloody, skinless one -- for who could forget such a monstrous sight?  His heart shriveled in his chest as an unnatural chill stole into his body.  Bringing forth his human glamour once again, he slowly cracked open his eyelids and peeked at her.

Her skin had grown a sickly pale color, and she gaped at him with shock, horror -- everything he had feared.  Giving her a sad smile with eyes that begged for understanding, he watched her silently.

When she finally spoke, her voice came out in a croak.  “I... I didn’t just see that.”

His heart ached at her denial.  “You did.”

“You’re really...?”

“I am.”

“But....”  She shook her head fiercely.  “No.  This isn’t real.  I don’t believe in God and the Devil and all of that.  How can you even exist?”

His face fell as he struggled to control the sharp pain stabbing his heart.  She didn’t accept him.  How could she?  He was hideous, a monster, the Devil... and with each moment that passed, he died just a little more.  “I do exist, Detective -- although, at this very moment, I wish I didn’t.”

“But... but....”  Her voice petered out as she stared at her hands in her lap.  He saw the fine tremble in them.

The need to comfort her was overwhelming, but he kept his hands to himself.  Any touch would probably send her into hysterics.  Instead, he rose to his feet to stand by the window.  Gazing sightlessly through the glass, he said, “I am sorry.”

When there was nothing but silence behind him, he felt his heart drop to the floor.  It was over... all over.

Finally, she spoke.  “I... Lucifer, I need time to process this.  I’m...  I can’t... this isn’t some dream?”

He glanced back at her. “No, Detective.”

She took a deep breath and nodded.  “Okay.”  Turning pleading eyes to him, she asked, “Can you... give me some time alone?  You just... turned my world on its ear.  I need a little time....”

Pain shot through him at her words.  She was rejecting him, but he hadn’t expected anything less.  He was a monster, after all.  Shame filled him -- shame at who and what he was.  Going back to Hell was far more preferable than seeing the detective look at him with such... horror in her eyes.

“Yes.  Yes, of course.”  Striding back to her, he gazed at her face as his hands twisted together anxiously.  “You’ll... be all right?”

Giving him a brave little smile, she nodded.  “I will... I think.  I just need... time.  Thank you for being straight with me, and... showing me.”

A derisive snort escaped him.  “Right.  This isn’t something for which you should be thanking me, Detective.  Quite honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t gone insane --”

“Yeah, well, I’m a Decker.  We’re made of stern stuff,” she said, sounding almost like her old self -- but not quite.

Nodding, he turned and walked to the door.  In an unexpected move, she rose to her feet and followed -- probably to make sure the Devil really left her abode.  As he crossed the threshold of her front door, he turned to take one last look at her.  Even pale and shaken, she was still beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“I just need... time.  Look, I’ll call you.”

Hope, always so hard to die, blossomed in his heart.  If she was still willing to call him, then surely there was a chance, even a slight one, that their relationship would be able to weather the storm...?  “Truly?  You’ll call?”

She nodded.  “I promise.  I just... need to... think.”

He couldn’t help but hang on to that tiny thread of hope.  “Of course.  Thank you, Detective.  I’ll wait for your call.”

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Chloe closed the door on Lucifer, then leaned against it, feeling as if she was going to collapse.  What the hell had just happened?  Lucifer was the _Devil?_  Really?  It was completely unbelievable.  She couldn’t even process it.  All this time she had thought he was just an eccentric, rich, delusional man who enjoyed helping her with cases.  She had never imagined that... he....  Sliding down the door, she sat on the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees. This  was just too crazy.  She felt like she was losing her mind.

For a long time she just sat in shock, until she finally realized that sitting there wouldn’t do anyone any good.  After calling in to work to tell them that an emergency had come up -- she figured that anyone who just received the shock she had would consider this an emergency -- she made her way to the couch and lay down.

Lucifer.  The Devil.

_The Devil._

All those times he had called himself the Devil -- he was telling the truth.  When he had gotten so angry at the Satanists -- it wasn’t because he was just role-playing, or was a method actor like Ella liked to think.  It was because he really _was_ the Devil, and they were maligning what he stood for.

But... it made no sense!  The Devil was supposed to be evil, with horns and a tail, sitting on men’s shoulders and telling them to go out and wreak havoc on the world.  Lucifer wasn’t like that at all.  In fact, he rejected the notion that the Devil forced humans to do evil deeds.  All about free will, he encouraged people to do whatever they desired.  He was very adamant that he was a punisher of evildoers, not an instigator.

And that made sense, in a weird way.  Who hadn’t heard stories about how the Devil punished souls in Hell by throwing them into a lake of fire, or stabbing them repeatedly? She had seen paintings by Hieronymus Bosch, and read Dante’s Inferno.  Hell was all about punishing the wicked... and wasn’t that what Lucifer said he was all about?

Her mind reeled with all of the contradictions between fact and rumor.  Not only did Lucifer help her with cases and make her a better detective, he was kindness itself, always having her back and defending her from vicious rumors.  She had even seen him get shot by Malcolm Graham in the airport hangar, only to come back to life later to distract that man long enough for her to get her gun.  He had saved her life then -- and Trixie’s, too.  If he truly was the Devil as portrayed by the Bible, wouldn’t he have helped Malcolm, who _was_ evil?

Nothing made sense anymore.  No longer black and white, her world had suddenly shifted into a multitude of grays.  Left was right, up was down, and the Devil was not evil, but a force for good.

All the conflicting stories made her dizzy, for he _was_ good -- there was no doubt about it.  And now that she knew who he really was, she could finally see why he had such a low opinion of himself.  Cast into Hell for millennia, cursed by Heaven and Earth alike, accused of being a monster....  Her heart squeezed painfully as she finally understood his self-loathing.  Poor Lucifer!  From what she could see, he wasn’t a monster at all, but a tender, sensitive soul who had suffered a wealth of pain and was, even now, still hurting.  Incredibly childish at times, and selfish as well, but for the most part, underneath it all, he had a kind, wonderful heart.  Didn’t any of the angels or God realize that the Devil acted out when he was hurting the most?

Her phone rang, catching her by surprise.  Was it Lucifer, already encroaching on the time she had asked for, to help her come to grips with this revelation?  She glanced at the device.  No... it was Trixie’s school.  Not sure if she was relieved or disappointed that it wasn’t her partner, she answered.  The school nurse told her that Trixie was suffering from a very high fever -- possibly from influenza.

Devil forgotten, Chloe rushed to the school.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Lucifer waited for Chloe’s call.

He knew it was silly to pin all his hopes on her promise, but he did.  Surely she would think about all their times together, and realize he wasn’t evil at all?  He knew he wasn’t worthy of her -- he was a monster and the Devil -- but he still dreamed of having a life with her, of spending the rest of his days just being near her, of obtaining the happiness that had eluded him for so long.

A day passed in silence.

Still hoping, he went to the Malibu house to take care of the animals as he constantly checked his phone.  As if sensing his anxiety, the animals crowded around him whenever he sat on the couch, and snuggled with him.  Their presence gave him a modicum of comfort as he waited for some word from Chloe.  Too nervous to knit or read, he drank his Scotch as he petted the animals and longed for his phone to ring.

The second day passed with still no word, and the hope that Lucifer had felt began to die a slow death, withering like a plant deprived of water in the desert.  Doubt began to creep into his mind.  Maybe she wouldn’t call.  Perhaps it had been a polite brush off.  Maybe she didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

He drank heavily as he stared at the phone and willed it to ring.

“Come on,” he snarled at the device, but it remained stubbornly silent.

By the third day, he knew she would not call.  He’d never hear from her again.  Standing in the great room of the Malibu house, surrounded by his furry friends, he felt his heart crack and shatter within him.  Desolation replaced hope.  After calling Amenadiel and asking him to take care of the animals, Lucifer threw his phone across the room.  What point was there in having the bloody thing, if the detective wasn’t on the other end to answer?  Stumbling out of the house, he got into his car and drove like a madman to LUX.

Alcohol -- he needed alcohol.  Lots of it.

And drugs.

And sex.

No, wait... no sex.  If he couldn’t have Chloe, he didn’t want anyone.  He didn’t want or need second best.

He proceeded to go on a bender of epic proportions that lasted twenty-four hours.  His angelic constitution prevented him from getting inebriated, but he figured if he drank nonstop, then eventually it would begin to affect him -- or at least, that was the hope.  He needed something to numb the pain.  Chloe’s rejection of him hurt far more than anything he had ever experienced -- not even when Dad had kicked him out had he felt this bad.  No, Falling was nothing compared to this stabbing pain in his soul, shredding his insides and tearing his wrecked heart into tiny pieces.  Losing Chloe was far, far worse.

Drinking, drugs of all sorts... nothing seemed to kill the pain.  It was unbearable.  He wanted to die.

And that’s when he knew what he had to do.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

“Hey, Chloe, how’s Trixie?”

Chloe turned at Dan’s greeting as he crossed the bullpen toward her, and gave him a weary smile.  It was good to see him, even though he had been at the hospital with her the entire time Trixie had been admitted.  “She’s better.  Grouchy now.  She’s bored and doesn’t want to stay in bed, which means she’s definitely better.  The hospital said she was well enough to go to school, but she says her legs still feel achy, so I wanted to keep her home for one more day.  Mom’s watching her.”

Her ex smiled.  “I’m glad to hear it.  She had us all worried.”

Smiling gratefully, Chloe said, “Thanks for being there, Dan.”

“No problem -- she’s my daughter too.”  For a moment the two shared a moment of companionable silence before she saw Dan look up sharply.  “Oh hey, since you’re between cases right now, Lieutenant Monroe wanted you to help Martinez on his case -- he wants to bring in the Shapiro suspect, and thinks there’s going to be violence.  He’s requesting a bunch of black and whites, as well.”

“Sure, no problem.”  As he walked away, Chloe paused, biting her lip, before taking a deep breath.  “Uh... Dan?”

He turned.  “Yeah?”

“Have you... heard from Lucifer?”

His brows furrowed.  “No, but he’s your partner.  He hasn’t contacted you?”

“No.”  Worry twisted her stomach until it was tied up in knots.  “I’ve tried calling several times, but it just goes to voicemail.”

Dan shrugged.  “Well, I don’t think he’s been here -- not that I know for sure, since I was with you -- but I haven’t heard anything.”

“Okay, thanks.”

As she watched her ex walk away, Chloe fretted over her partner.  While she had stayed with Trixie in the hospital, she had thought hard about him, and realized that he was still the same old Lucifer she had always known.  His being the Devil really made no difference to her.  He made her a better detective, and she trusted him with her life.  She even trusted him with Trixie’s life, which said a lot.  And she found that she still had a wealth of feelings for him -- that would never change.

Unable to call Lucifer right away with all the goings-on with Trixie, she had phoned him as soon as her baby girl had been released.  After leaving several voicemail messages and texts for him with no response, fear had started to claw at her insides, tightening her chest painfully.  After all, he had dropped a bombshell on her, and was waiting for her reaction.  Was he afraid she would reject him?  She hoped not, but she could see that he might think such a thing, for he had been rejected by his father and all of humanity for millennia.  But she had promised to call -- surely he wouldn’t do anything stupid until he heard from her?

Deciding that once the raid was over she’d go looking for Lucifer, she grabbed her bulletproof vest from her locker and headed over to find Martinez.  The other detective was happy for her assistance and welcomed her gratefully.

They arrived at a warehouse in downtown Los Angeles, having gotten a tip that it was where the armed suspect was hiding.  Letting Martinez take the lead, Chloe followed behind with a number of uniformed officers as they fanned out into the large, dark building.  Sweeping the place methodically, she searched the area with the pallets.  She took extra precautions, for the tall stacks of boxes on top of the wooden platforms could easily hide a crazed gunman.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, she heard the loud report of a gun as someone pushed her to the ground.  A cacophony of “Freeze, police!” and more gunfire filled the air, transforming the warehouse into a mass of chaos.  As she heard more shouts, this time of Miranda rights, she pulled herself from under the dead weight pinning her down to thank whoever had covered her.

It was Lucifer.

“Oh god, oh god,” she cried as she saw the blood pouring from her chest.  “No, no, no --”

“Dad couldn’t --”  He coughed up blood.  “-- care less, Detective.”  A chuckle escaped his lips.  “In fact... he’d be... quite pleased.”

“Shut up.”  Whipping off her vest, she tore her blouse and shoved the cloth on the wound, applying hard pressure on it.  “Man down!  Call 9-1-1!” she yelled to a nearby officer, before turning back to him.  “Dammit, Lucifer, what are you doing here?!”

“He had... a gun trained on you, Detective.  Couldn’t let....”  More blood spewed out of his mouth as he tried to speak.

“Stop speaking, conserve your strength.”

“L-let me die, D-Detective.  It will be better... can’t bear....”

Reaching out with one hand, she touched his neck, then cupped his cheek.  “I won’t let you die.  Stay with me, Lucifer.  Stay.”

He groaned as his eyes shut.  “Can’t bear... being... without... you.”  His head lolled to one side.

“Dammit, Lucifer!”  She felt for a pulse -- still there, but growing weaker.  She glanced around as panic filled her.  Oh god, he couldn’t die... not like this.  Not like this!   _“Where’s the damn ambulance?!”_

 

________________________________________

 

 

Lucifer lay in a gray fog for a long time.

Wasn’t he supposed to be dead?  This didn’t look anything like Hell.

Thinking back, he tried to recall how he found himself here.  Using the phone at LUX, he had called the station chief to find out where the detective was, and had been thrilled to hear they were going on a raid.  His original plan was to just barge right in and scream for the suspect to shoot him -- such an easy way to end things, since Chloe would be in the vicinity -- but when he caught sight of her, looking stern and professional with “LAPD” written on her bulletproof vest, he found he couldn’t do it.  He couldn’t ruin her arrest.

So he had followed along silently, slipping in when no one was watching.  Easy enough to do, given that humans gave him whatever he wanted -- well, with the exception of the detective, of course.  Bringing up the rear, he kept his eyes peeled for the suspect.

When everyone split apart, he stayed with Chloe like a silent shadow.  At first he saw nothing, but then....  There, by one of the stacks -- a glimmer of light reflecting off a gun barrel.  Seeing that the weapon was aimed at Chloe, he had sprung into action, thinking not of his own safety, but of hers.  She was the only one who mattered.  Moving faster than the eye could see, He threw himself in front of her just as the suspect started firing.  As Lucifer felt the bullet enter his chest, he fell on top of his partner, covering her body with his own.  He had felt nothing.  No pain -- only relief.

He would be going back to Hell.  He wouldn’t have to bear her contempt, see the hatred in her eyes when she looked upon him.  Oh no, for all of eternity, he would be alone with his happy memories -- themselves a torture of a different kind -- where he could close his eyes and mourn the loss of the one thing that mattered in his life.

There wasn’t much he remembered after the shot -- the sight of her leaning over him, the touch of her hand on his neck, his cheek, as she cried, “I won’t let you die.”  Then... nothing.

He had kept thinking that any moment he would arrive in Hell, but it never happened. Instead, he found himself in limbo -- a vast, gray land of nothingness.  He walked for what seemed like miles, but never made any progress.  It was as if he was mired in a giant muddy swamp, never making any headway, forever trapped in fog.

What if he never escaped?  What if he was doomed to this gray abyss of nothingness forever?  That thought was even more horrifying than Hell.  Pushing on, he struggled to break free of the murkiness.

Eventually he started to hear sounds -- someone speaking to him in a low voice, and then an incessant beeping which drove him half-mad.  Working his way toward the sounds, he fought his way through the gloom and forced his eyes open.

Bright lights overhead blinded him.  Blinking furiously, he took stock of his surroundings.

The smell of antiseptic was overwhelming.  The beeping came from machinery to one side of him, and he felt pressure on his left forefinger from the oxygen saturation sensor.  He was out of his suit, that was for sure, but not naked.  Pity, really.  He did so love being naked.  Glancing around, he saw that he was in a hospital room, dressed in a cotton gown, lying on a bed with covers up to his chest.

“Hey.”

Turning, his poor heart faltered and nearly stopped at the sight of Chloe sitting in a chair next to him, before pounding like a jackhammer.  “D-Detective?”

“You had us all scared -- especially me.”

Looking closely at her, Lucifer could see that she wasn’t exaggerating.  Her face was white and pinched, with dark circles under her eyes.  “You look awful.”

Chuckling, she shook her head.  “Wow.  Thanks.  You definitely don’t pull your punches, do you?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that... you _do_ look awful.”

She scooted her chair closer to his side.  “That’s because my fool partner tried to get himself killed.  I’ve been here since they brought you in.  Luckily Dan offered to watch over Trixie and the animals.”  Her eyes grew tender as she gazed at him.  “Thank you for taking that bullet for me.”

He didn’t know what to say.  Why wasn’t she screaming at him, hitting him, trying to kill him?  He was the Devil -- he expected no less.  And yet... here she was, looking at him with kind eyes.  It was odd and confusing, but he didn’t ask all the questions that crowded his poor, bamboozled brain.  Instead he found himself saying, “You didn’t call.”

Chloe sighed.  “Trixie’s been really sick with the flu.  I took her to emergency and they admitted her.  It’s been a harrowing few days, and they don’t allow cell phones in the hospital.  They released her late last night.  I tried to call you as soon as I could and left several messages, but you weren’t answering your phone.”

Shame filled Lucifer as he realized that his faith in her wasn’t as great as it should have been.  He should have known she wouldn’t go back on her word.  If only he had been more patient, and kept his phone on him...!

“I was finally able to come back to work, now that Trixie’s better.  I never expected you to be there at that raid.  You scared me to death!  Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

Heat filled his cheeks as he remembered his desperation to do away with the pain in his heart.  He turned away in embarrassment at his rash actions.  “Yes.”

He watched as shock rippled across her face, then anger, then white-hot rage.  “You idiot!  You goddamn _idiot!_  For crying out loud, Lucifer, if you weren’t in the hospital, I’d slap you right now!  What the hell were you thinking?!”

Shaking his head, he bit the inside of his cheek and countered her question with one of his own.  “Why did you save me, Detective?  I’m the Devil, remember?  You would have done the world a favor if you had let me die.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Honestly, that’s the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard you say -- and you’ve said a lot of asinine things.”  Glaring at him fiercely, she said, “You’re my partner, and you’re important to me.”

Heat crept up his neck and into his cheeks at her words.  Did she mean it?  No... she probably only meant it a purely professional way.  He was too afraid to hope for anything more.

Pausing in her rant, her eyes grew curious.  “What would have happened if you _had_ died?”

He shrugged.  “I would have ended up back in Hell.”   _A far better place than being here with you hating me...._

“Then I’m really glad you lived.  You don’t belong there.”

He snorted derisively.  “Right.  There are many people who would disagree with you on that sentiment.”

“Yeah, well, they aren’t me.”  She sighed.  “Look, your whole big reveal thing, who you really are....  It’s been an immense shock to me, but I don’t hate you.  I would never wish you dead.”

With wide eyes he gazed at her, as a small spark of hope finally touched his cold heart.  “You... you don’t hate me?”  The pathetic tone of his voice had him cringing, but he couldn’t help it.  Even though he was drowning in a pool of self-loathing, a part of him was afraid to grab the thread of hope she was holding out to him.  What if she really didn’t mean it?

“Of course not.  I just needed time.  You dropped a bombshell on me, Lucifer.  Heaven, Hell, God existing, _you_ existing, angels, demons....  I never believed in any of that before, and now I find it’s all real.  It’s not something that can be taken in easily.”  Her brows furrowed as she glanced at him.  “Does this mean....  Is Maze really is a demon?”

He nodded.

“Oh, great.  I’m rooming with a demon.”  She rolled her eyes again.

He couldn’t believe how well she was taking everything.  “Right.  Detective, I don’t think you quite understand.  I’m the --”

“Devil.  Yes, I know.”  She shook her head.  “Look, Lucifer, you know me.  I don’t judge people by their reputations or how they look.  I judge them by who they are... and you are a good man.  I don’t care what anyone says about you.  You’ve always been kind to me.  My daughter adores you, and our bevy of animals love you.  That tells me you’re worthy of my trust and friendship.”

He was stunned.  Had he fallen on his head?  “Detective --”

“So no more of this ‘I am the Devil’ crap.  You’ll never be the Devil to me.  You’re a fine man.  A worthy man... and I’m proud to have you in my life.”

Agog, he stared at her, unable to believe what she was saying.  Surely this was a dream?  Yes, a drug-induced dream.  Any moment now, he’d wake up....

Touching his cheek hesitantly, she ran a finger up and down his stubble.  “So is this just an illusion?”

“It’s... a glamour.  When I wear it, it’s almost as if I’m healed.  My face can get cut, bleed, my stubble can grow out, my hair can get wildly curly, if I let it....  Everyone would think it was real -- even me, if I let myself believe -- but I know it’s not, for I can still feel what lies underneath.”

Her eyes grew sympathetic.  “So it still hurts, then.”

Unable to bear the pity in her eyes, he looked out the window.  “Not... not like when it happened.  Back then it was incredibly painful.  Now it’s... a dull ache, I suppose.  It’s never really healed.  It’s like... an open sore.  There are times when it hurts, and other times when it just throbs.”

“How did it happen?”

“When Dad cast me out and I Fell, I... burned.”  His eyes dropped to his hands resting on his stomach on top of the covers.  They were linked tightly together, white at the knuckles from the force of his grip -- the only thing that really revealed how anxious he was about this whole conversation.

Chloe’s eyes followed his and studied his hands.  Reaching over, she gently pried them apart, then laced her fingers with his.  “Hey... it’s okay, Lucifer.  It’s okay.  Everything is fine.”

He laughed harshly.  “Fine?  You’re holding hands with the Devil!  How can that be fine?”

“Because I say it is.”  She squeezed his hand.  “Can you... can you show me again?  How you look, I mean.”

Lucifer felt the blood drain from his face.  “Please don’t ask me that, Detective.  You’ll be frightened --”

Her gaze grew fierce.  “I won’t.  Remember what line of work I’m in.  I’ve seen bodies shot, stabbed, dismembered, burned, crushed....  Your condition won’t scare me.”

His eyes were full of doubt.  “But --”

“Please.”

Her soft plea squeezed his heart.  Bloody hell, he could never resist her, even if it meant his own destruction.  His eyes fell away from hers in shame.  “Very... very well.”

There was no horrified gasp this time as he let his human face fade and be replaced by his true form.  Slowly turning back toward her, he fully expected to see her cringing or looking away, unable to maintain eye contact with his wrecked face... but she wasn’t doing either of those things.  Instead she looked... furious.

“Your dad is an ass.”  Her voice trembled from the intensity of her emotions.

He gaped at her, for that was the last thing he expected her to say.  “I... I beg your pardon?”

Her eyes burned like fire -- she looked like she wanted to shoot someone.  “Your.  Dad.  Is.  An.  Ass.”  Reaching out with a shaking hand, she touched his chin, turning his face this way and that as she inspected him.  “I don’t care what you did.  No one deserves this.   _No one.”_

She was angry?  For _him?_  But he was the Devil -- no one ever defended him!  No one....  So moved was he that he couldn’t even speak -- he could only gaze at her, dumbfounded.

“But you know, it isn’t as bad as you think,” she whispered as she leaned close.  His eyes grew round as he stared at her face, unable to believe she could bear to be so near to him.  “I’ve seen worse.”

And then she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead -- a gentle kiss, filled with tenderness.  Lucifer couldn’t believe it.  How could she touch his nightmarish face, let alone kiss it?  His whole world suddenly tilted on its axis and he was falling, falling, falling....

The soft brush of her lips against his raw flesh was like nothing he had ever experienced.  Oh, he’d had plenty of men and women kiss him during his time on Earth, but no one had ever touched him in such a profound, loving manner.  Only Chloe, his brave, beautiful partner.  His insides sang as joy flooded him like a tidal wave, drowning him in bliss.  Never in his lifetime would he ever forget the gift she had just bestowed upon him.

As she pressed her forehead to his, he saw her mouth curve into a smile.  “You’re still you, Lucifer.  You’re a wonderful man, the best partner... kind, caring, with a heart of gold.  This doesn’t matter to me at all.”  She raised her hand and stroked his cheek muscles.  “Not one bit.  You can stay like this, if you like.  I wouldn’t care.  I’d still want you in my life.”

Speechless, Lucifer found himself unable to express the wealth of emotions that poured through him at that moment.  Tears welled in his eyes and poured down his cheeks in gratitude as love swept through his insides.  He didn’t deserve her, he didn’t....

And then she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

It was soft and gentle, nothing like the one full of hunger they had shared days earlier.  This one was full of compassion and... love.  Yes, he could taste the love on her lips, and it filled his heart near to bursting.  When she pulled back, her heart was in her eyes... and it was a stunning sight.   _She_ was stunning, exquisite, magnificent.  Far too good for the likes of him....

“Detective....” he whispered as he let his human visage reform around him. “Th-thank you.  I... I don’t know what to say.  I can’t believe that you can accept me.  Me -- the Devil!”

“You’re not the Devil.  You’ve proven that over and over.”

“But...”  Shame filled his eyes.  “I’m so very ugly....”

“I don’t see your outside appearance, Lucifer.”  She tapped his chest.  “I see what’s inside, here -- and your heart is so beautiful, it’s blinding.”  She kissed him again.  “I don’t care how you look -- I like you just the way you are.”  Lifting his hand to her cheek, she held it tightly against her as she gazed at him with beseeching aqua eyes.  “Please, Lucifer....  stay with me?”

Never in his life had he dreamed that she would accept him.  And not just accept him, but want him with her!  Joy bubbled up within his chest, so much so that he thought he would explode from it.  It was as if he was a young angel again, lighting the stars, only this time it was a star -- the most beautiful star in the cosmos -- that set _him_ alight.  He felt excited, rejuvenated, exhilarated, as love swept through every inch of his body -- and yet tears streamed down his cheeks, unchecked.  He didn’t understand his reaction.  Why should being so happy make him cry? And yet he couldn’t stop himself.  

Swallowing hard as he struggled to get his emotions under control, Lucifer gave his partner a watery smile.  “Always, Chloe.  Always.”


End file.
